


Sinful

by destieltrash (orphan_account)



Series: pleasure's a sin and sin's a pleasure [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Denial, F/F, Human AU, Internalized Homophobia, Slurs, Very very unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/destieltrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She suppresses sobs, even alone in her bed. Because crying would be admitting there's something wrong, and she already knows she's fucked up. She doesn't want to face it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinful

Lydia wants to love Jackson. 

She really does. 

They're perfect for each other, she knows. She's the queen, he's the king. 

What the fuck is supposed to happen when the queen doesn't like the king nearly as much as she likes the pretty brunette in her French class?

Jackson is perfect. He adores Lydia, he's objectively attractive, he's reasonably intelligent. 

Lydia can't figure out what the fucking problem is. 

~

Allison. Allison is the problem.

The first day Allison arrives in school, Lydia drags Jackson home to fuck. 

He lays her down gently on her bed and she stares up at the ceiling, thinking vaguely that his armpit is weirdly close to her face. 

Lydia's never enjoyed sex with Jackson, but she always thought it was due to his status as a teenaged boy. They're not exactly known for their sexual prowess. 

But when Jackson's tugging down her panties Lydia finds herself wet at the thought of Allison's slender fingers skating over her skin rather than Jackson's very male ones. 

Terrified, Lydia spreads a rumor that Allison is a shoplifter. Then another, that she takes drugs. And another, that she's a slut. 

Rumors are Lydia's weapon, but tearing Allison down does nothing to prevent Lydia's growing lust. 

Lydia lives her days in fear.

~

It's a fateful spring evening when Allison intercepts Lydia on her way home from Jackson's. 

"Why've you been spreading rumors about me?" Allison demands, her grip tight on Lydia's arm. 

Lydia's breathless, her stomach performing acrobatics. 

She doesn't let it show. 

"What rumors?" Lydia says, with false sweetness. "Your innocent act doesn't hide the fact that you're a little whore."

Allison's expression hardens. "Bitch," she says, her eyes alight with anger. "The fuck did I ever do to you?"

Lydia wrenches her arm from Allison's grasp. "Just keep away from me, dyke," she spits. Allison stands there, too shocked to keep Lydia from scurrying back home. 

That night, Lydia locks her door. Trembling a little, she pulls off her dress and panties, putting them both neatly in her laundry hamper. 

Lydia tries. She squeezes her eyes shut, thinks of Jackson naked and thinks of boys and dicks and abs and all the things girls are supposed to think about. She's rubbing at herself desperately, her skin bone dry. Panicking, Lydia forces a finger into herself until it hurts, wishing she felt something. 

Then it's twelve AM, and Lydia is naked and sore and crying into her pillow.

And then she's asleep. She'd rather feel nothing than feel the humiliation and confusion that seems to overtake her every waking moment. 

~

Lydia asks Jackson to eat her out. 

She makes sure his face is smooth. She doesn't tangle her fingers in his hair. She closes her eyes. 

Lydia comes for the first time in her life thinking of Allison, who hates her. 

Lydia comes for the first time thinking of a girl. 

It's so good Lydia forgets how wrong it is until she sees Jackson looking up at her, lips swollen and grinning and begging for approval. 

Lydia decides she hates herself. 

~

Lydia sneaks a magazine full of naked women into Allison's locker. 

Allison withdraws into herself, and Lydia adds her own voice to the whispers of 'dyke' that haunt Allison. 

~

It takes Allison six months to realize why Lydia torments her.

Lydia doesn't realize that life can get worse until Allison shows up at her door. 

But yes. Life can get worse. Allison shows her exactly how much worse. 

~

"I'm sorry," mumbles Lydia. Her face is ashen. She's staring at the ground. 

"No you're not," snarls Allison. She steps forward, into the house. Lydia wants to take a step back, but she doesn't dare. Allison's fingers wind in Lydia's hair and she tugs, hard enough to hurt. Lydia gasps, her head pulled back to expose her throat. 

"I am," chokes out Lydia, nearly paralyzed with fear and remorse. "I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"What? You didn't know how to handle being a dyke?" demands Allison, her breath hot against Lydia's cheek. 

"I swear, I-"

"Fuck you," Allison cuts her off. "You're a selfish little bitch." The grip on Lydia's hair tightens, and her breath hitches. 

Lydia hates that her panties are damp.

She wishes her parents were home.

"God, you're disgusting," Allison continues, her pretty face twisted with hatred. "Ruined my life because you can't handle being gay."

"I- I'm-"

"I would've said yes if you'd asked me out, you know," snaps Allison, apparently unaware of what her words are doing to Lydia. 

Lydia closes her eyes. Her stomach is roiling with hatred, and it's not for Allison. 

Lydia's hands settle at Allison's waist and before Allison can do the sensible thing and push them away, Lydia has pulled Allison into a harsh kiss. 

Allison releases Lydia's hair and Lydia thinks she'll pull away. She doesn't. 

The kiss is like a fight, rough and full of hatred. Lydia feels like she's on fire. She pulls Allison closer, moaning. Allison swallows her moan greedily. 

Lydia pulls Allison upstairs, feeling drunk. She can taste Allison's lipgloss. She can see Allison's swollen lips. She can smell Allison's perfume. She can feel Allison in her arms, muscular in an entirely different and decidedly feminine way. It's fucking intoxicating. 

They fall to the bed in a flurry of desperate limbs. Clothes are being torn off and it's sloppy and angry and Lydia feels like a live wire, humming with energy. 

"Fuck," Allison mutters. "Fuck you, I fucking-" She's cut off as Lydia's hand reaches down to rub at her clit. Lydia's unskilled and inexperienced, but she's a fast learner. She barely needs to. It doesn't take long for Allison to bat her hand away and Allison stands on her knees, inching up so her pussy is above Lydia's breasts. Lydia is staring at Allison's cunt unabashedly, and she's licking her lips at the sight. She's soaked, thrumming with pleasure that's muting the guilt. 

Jackson has never had this effect on Lydia. 

"You're not sorry," says Allison, breathing heavily. 

"Yes I am."

"No you're not." Apparently to shut her up, Allison moves forward to lower her pussy onto Lydia's eager lips. "You fucking will be." Allison begins to ride Lydia's mouth, Lydia licking and sucking at her. 

Lydia knows she'll be ashamed later- to be letting Allison use her like this. To be spread underneath her, gasping for breath as Allison grinds onto her face. 

She doesn't care. 

This, Lydia thinks, is what she's been waiting for her entire life. 

Allison throws her head back and comes with a shout, her eyes screwed shut. She's yanking Lydia's hair. 

Lydia licks her clean. Lydia doesn't know who she is anymore. 

Allison stares down at Lydia. Lydia looks up at her. 

"I'm sorry," whispers Lydia. 

Allison's expression is stone. Slowly, she gets off of Lydia. She gets dressed. She leaves. 

Lydia cries herself to sleep that night. 

~

It becomes a thing. 

Every so often, Allison comes over- in the middle of the night, more often than not. Lydia has never felt so filthy and disgusting and shamefully wonderful when Allison is pinning her down or fucking her face. 

At least Allison returns the favor after the first time. 

Allison is Lydia's dirty little secret. 

It's a good thing Allison hates her too much to care. 

Lydia really doesn't hate Allison. She very much likes Allison. 

Hate fucking in secret, she supposes, is better than nothing. 

So Lydia wants to hold Allison, wants to kiss her, wants to tell her about her day- so what? She takes what Allison gives, and is thankful it's not less. 

Allison knows how much power she holds over Lydia, and it's a testament to how much character she has that she doesn't abuse her power. 

It's dirty and secret and sinful, and it's the best thing Lydia has ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this came from. I was listening to sad music and it's 5AM. The product is an angst dump with some sex sprinkled in.


End file.
